


The Need for Another

by captorganmay



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Betrayal, F/M, Jack's glass office door is stupid, Mentions of Hannibal's existence., Will feels betrayed, Will is drunk, Yum Whiskey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 15:53:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captorganmay/pseuds/captorganmay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is having nightmares and Alana is the life raft he is clinging to. But Jack starts asking if Will is stable...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Need for Another

**Author's Note:**

> I'm obsessed with the Alana/Will relationship. To simplify things, I am obsessed with Will.

It seems that the only time he can understand others is when they are upset; maybe because his reality is always altered by the taint of unhappiness.

Will is rarely happy. Despite the things that he does to take up his time: tying fly gear, spending times with his family of dogs, working on his motors. All it does is create a temporary barrier between him and the horrors that live within every neuron. Sleep only makes the horrors appear at the surface and unlike being awake, there is no distraction - no fort.

_He pulls the shade tight. There's a smile on his face as he knows what pain is to come - it will make everything alright. The couple bound to the bed would be his redemption; his return to glory. He held the knife above the woman as she squirmed helplessly beneath him. Will could feel the wooden handle of the blade and the cushion of flesh as the blade drove home._

Will screams as he wakes. His dogs whine and immediately are at his bedside, offering the only comfort they can. He gasps and tried to regain his composure; he tries to remember where and who is was.

_It's 1:13. I'm in Wolftrap, Virginia. My name is Will Graham._

The exercise Dr. Lecter had taught him did little to calm his frayed nerves. The dream is still very tangible in his reality. He can still feel the knife in his hand and the feeling of climax when he drove the blade home. He gets out of bed and lays on the floor with his dogs. They crowd around him; their fur and warmth, their presence, instantly put him at ease and before long he falls back to sleep.

\---

"Will?

Alana stands in the doorway to the classroom. Her figure is distorted by the light of his computer screen.

"You seem to be somewhere else." She comments.

Will removeds his glasses and sarcastically chuckles, "Probably because I was." He tries to lighten the mood with the sound of his voice, but his expression shows the pain he feels while he allows his mind to wander into the abyss.

"I'm worried about you. You seem... distant." Alana whispers the last word, although it replaced a more offensive term: _unstable._ She still feels like she betrays Will by thinking it.

"Ah well, I've got a lot on my mind," he replies with a sigh. It was an attempt at a normal response; this was something someone in an average day would say. His smile quickly turns to a grimace as his eyes shoot around the room, avoiding her eyes.

"Jack wanted me to make sure you were ok."

"I'm doing well enough."

"Are you sure?" Alana looks at him directly, daring him to tell her the truth. Will finds it hard to avoid her pointed look. He looks at the floor and nods distractedly - yes he was ok. The truth is that he is not ok, but he is doing about the same as normal lately. It is starting to seem normal.

"You're not my patient, but you know you can talk to me. As a friend."

Will's eyes immediately shoot to her face at the mention of the word 'friend.' It was a foreign term - barely understood and rarely mentioned in his vocabulary.

"Thank you," he responds with strength. He means it. Alana nods, smiles, and waves as she leaves the room.

\---

It's funny how accustomed people become to the evil and darkness that resides within humanity. Will stares at the crime scene with a cynical smile on his face. Some people push paper and answer phones for a living; he studies dead bodies and blood sprays to catch criminals. Some become numb to their daily horrors, but not him. Will relives his every night while he tries to sleep.

"Take as much time as you need," Jack mumbles to Will's back as he closes the door.

The scene in front him is in a stable. A man hangs from the rafters from a rope, still in his riding gear. The horses are restless. They snort and paw at the door. Some start to chew at the stable doors. There is a blood stain on the hay near a doorway, but no body. The man hanging has no external injuries so the blood isn't his. There also isn't any evidence that the killer dragged a body from the door.

The pendulum swings.

_Will shouts at the man to stay back. He is desperate; he has nothing left to lose. The man in riding gear backs up, with hands in the air. Will moves forward with his gun drawn, but he hears a noise behind him. His finger is still on the trigger - if he had taken a gun course, he would have known better. The gun went off in a moment of panic. Will shoots her. He shot the one he wanted, the one he was fighting for. She stumbles forward, holding her wound. She uselessly tries to plug the wound, but is unable to stop the flow. She falls forward on the hay. Will cries as he grabs the man in the riding gear. He cries as he strung him up. He cries as he picked her up and carries her off._

Will gasped. "Jack!"

Jack enters the barn. "This isn't premeditated. The blood on the hay - it's hers." Jack is confused. Will shakes as he looks at his hands; they are covered in blood.

"He is still with her." Will's voice breaks and Jack's face morphs to understanding. He shouts for everyone to search the grounds.

It isn't long before they find him, cradling her body. He sobs. His hands and arms are drenched in her blood. He screams as they take her body from him. Before the cops can cuff him, he shoots himself in the head and falls awkwardly on the ground. Will's gut wrenches. The killer is dead, but the emotion radiating from his despair are already screaming in Will's mind; there is no escaping.

***

Will's body shakes as he awakes from another nightmare. His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat and his breath is broken with sobs and gasps. It is only a nightmare, which is hard to remind himself of when he is shaking from the fear of it.

9:28pm.

Is it too late to call? Will quickly decides that he doesn't care. He needs a voice; her voice in particular.

"Hello?" Thankfully she sounds awake.

"Hey Alana."

"Will!? Are you ok?"

"I... uh- yeah, I just did... no, no I'm not ok."

"I'm on my way."

Will is surprised with the quickness of her response. For once in a long time, he grins.

\---

The dogs are a mass of wagging tails and fighting to get the most pats on the head. Will tries his best to get them away from Alana so she can actually enter the house without tripping. She only smiles and tries to give them equal attention, even the shortest of them all.

Will leads her to his dining room table and they both it down. The silence stretches on for a little too long. Alana clears her throat.

"Do you wanna talk?"

Will stares at his hands. He didn't, but why did he want her to come? He knows the answer, but he didn't think she would appreciate him just wanting her there, no talking. He needs to know he isn't completely alone.

"Will?" Alana stretches over and grips his hand in a tight squeeze. He grimaces and squeezes back. "You don't have to talk. We can just sit."

Will had never felt more relieved; he had also never wanted to kiss her more than at this moment. He didn't act on it though. He couldn't bear the thought of her leaving now.

***

Will slowly opens the heavy pane of glass that serves as Jack's office door. Will always found it to be superfluous since it was transparent. He knocks even though Jack asked him to come.

"Sit down, Will." Will approaches Jack's desk and slowly sits in the new leather chair in front of it; it makes an awkward squeak. Jack breaths out, more than a sigh, but less than a breath. "I think you need a break."

"A break?" Will furrows his brows in confusion.

"Alana and I agreed that you are not... all together." Will's chest bursts with anger. They discussed him in private. He trusted Alana and he had a certain respect for Jack; now he only felt betrayed by both. Will nods silently and gets up to leave. "Will - it is for the best. Give yourself two weeks."

Will can hear the whine of the glass door as it closes slowly behind him.

***

This is the fifth missed call from Alana. She has left five voicemails and sent twice as many texts. Will has neither read nor listened to her messages, but he knows they are some form of apology. He is nearly at the bottom of the bottle of whiskey and his feelings about her are nowhere to be found. They certainly aren't at the bottom, now that he can see that clearly through the thin layer of alcohol left.

His dogs are all sleeping. He looks at his bed, neatly made. He makes it everything morning. He isn't sure why. He destroys the sheets and covers in the night with his thrashing. But every morning he puts it back together and it feels like a fresh start. Too bad he never gets past the start line.

He hears a ferocious knocking at his door. He slowly gets up to open it. Alana is standing on his porch and even through his drunk fog, he can feel the anger radiating off of her.

"Why didn't you answer my calls?" she demands as he gestures shakily for her to come in.

"Hello to you too," He slurs and slams the door a little too hard.

"You're drunk." It isn't a question.

"Hm. I think there is some left, if ya want." Alana's face turns from anger to sad. She reaches for his face, but he brushes her off. "Don't."

"Will..."

"You know why I've halways liked ya... Ya never tried to analyzsse me. You were jussst talking to me." Will shakes his head and falls back to sit in his desk chair with his desk of flying gear in mid preparation.  "But now I see yooor just like the othersss."

Alana's throat constricts with emotion. "Will, I didn't betray you. Jack could see you were becoming... unstable." Alana whispers the last word. She finally allows the word to slip out.

"You agreed with him!" Will points at her accusingly.

"Regardless of our friendship, I am still obliged to my job to judge agents' stability in the field."

Will chuckles sarcastically. "Agent? I'm just a fuckin' teacher with a stupid badge. I'm 'special.'" Will's hands are clumsy as he throws up his air quotes. His head feels heavy and he drops it in his hands.

Alana doesn't know what to do her herself. She knows she is doing the best for him, but all he can see is a betrayal of the little truth he has revealed to only her. She plops down on his bed in the living room. The dogs begin to crowd around her, fighting for her attention. "Hey guys." She tries to pet each of them equally, but she is sure she has petted that brown head more than twice.

Will lifts his eyes to see her interacting with his dogs. They are his family and they trust her. He stands up, stumbles, catches himself on the chair, and finally makes his way towards the bed. Alana watches as he comes to sit next to her. She can smell the strength of the whiskey, but she can also smell the salt of his sweat and the fragrance of his aftershave. He looks at her and his eyes look clear _. He is definitely drunk,_ Alana thinks. _Otherwise he would have averted his eyes by now._

"I'm sorry," she says simply.

Will turns away and nods. Then he smiles. "You did call me five times." He chuckles and so does she. His face sobers. "I don't want to be crazy." He whispers.

Alana wraps her arm in his and puts her head on his shoulder. As his friend, she doesn't know what to say. She decides not to venture towards her psychiatrist side. He is not her patient and she wants to keep it that way. 


End file.
